


After Hours

by orcsmoocher



Category: Open Heart (Visual Novels)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, MC gets One (1) alotted smooch, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25319770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orcsmoocher/pseuds/orcsmoocher
Summary: Ethan finds himself going on a late-night walk with Dr. Ezekiel Moone, his protege.
Relationships: Ethan Ramsey/Main Character (Open Heart), Ethan Ramsey/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 11





	After Hours

Ethan heaved his tired body into the driver's seat of his car. Test after test came up negative for the latest patient dropped in the diagnostic team's lap. Bacterial, viral, and fungal infection was quickly ruled out, as well as local parasites. The case details they had replayed in his brain on a loop as he turned the key and peeled off into the busy Boston streets. Her symptoms were mostly psychological, leading him to believe that there was something wrong with her brain - frequent dizzy spells, sudden behavioural changes and mood swings until she was brought in from another hospital by ambulance suffering from progressively worsening seizures. A negative on all tests - not only your usual suspects like bacteria or viruses, other toxic substances such as drugs or poisons being completely absent was very suspicious for a case of encephalitis on that scale. A previous doctor had noted her growing irritation and falsely diagnosed her with a personality disorder, prescribing medication that  _ seemed _ to have worked… until she ended up in the ICU. In reality, it was most likely a placebo-like response while the real cause was stewing underneath the surface. 

Regardless, Ethan had a long night of studying ahead of him. They wouldn't have real answers until the results of the brain scans and spinal taps arrived anyway. It was nearly seven-thirty, and growing ever-later as he drove down the street at a snail's pace behind the long conga-line of others in the exact same rat race. A figure he recognized stepped up the stairs leading to the subway tunnel and began his journey down the walk - definitely faster than Ethan's driving speed, he noted wryly. He first saw the clean white coat, then his swept black hair ruffled from a long day at work, then the pair of bright purple headphones placed over his ears and black bag covered in all manner of childish designs, stickers and pins slung over his shoulder. It was definitely his protege, Dr. Ezekiel Moone - his 'casual-ness', which Ethan could only  _ politely _ describe as 'quirky' at the best of times, was leaking through the leftover professionalism he wore to work. His protege was quite the curiosity, actually - perhaps it was just Ethan's inquisitive nature and inclination to read people, but he often wondered what it was that Ezekiel felt natural versus what he put on to carry himself in the stressful setting of Edenbrook. Not the 'real' Ezekiel, as that was a concept used by amateur authors in a feeble attempt to describe the soul as boringly two-faced, but rather a passive - perhaps friendly - interest in the life of a person whom he worked in close quarters with.

...Plus, he might have some input in the case. He spent his shift not only wrangling his intern, but some of the most colorful of patients at the clinic - at their allotted lunch break, Ethan got the absolute  _ pleasure _ of hearing him whine about it - so he didn’t know much. A fresh set of eyes would possibly be helpful.

Seeing an opening in the curb just ahead of Ezekiel, Ethan pulled over and rolled down his window. His car got the man's attention long before his voice did, the man swiftly pulling off his headphones to drape them around his neck like a particularly noisy necklace. "Ethan, hi," Ezekiel greeted with a smile, a polite bow of the lips that belied his true feelings underneath. That was at least something that could be appreciated about Ezekiel - the attraction was clear but his appreciation for boundaries was even clearer. They hadn't seen each other in earnest since  _ that _ night... but it was obvious that if Ethan were to walk up to him one day and say 'I changed my mind. I want to be with you again,' he would reply with an ever-enthusiastic 'yes', despite every better judgement maintaining that it was a poor idea. In a neatly laid out display of pros and cons, that was something that he considered a flaw - the kid had a big heart and was oft blinded by love; a trait that would help him fight for his patients yet destroy him when he inevitably lost. And he would lose, over and over and over… 

"I would offer you a ride home, but…" Ethan flicked his head towards the veritable traffic jam centered around a cavalcade of slow drivers in the intersection ahead, which made Ezekiel laugh - to his chagrin. Ezekiel was distracting in more ways than one, and one of those was his pleasant laugh; it was light and quiet, never too loud, and became soundless when he found something especially funny. Ethan was not one to tell jokes - but it did do a man good to be the one to make him laugh every now and then. 

“It’s alright,” Ezekiel replied. His smile went a little coy at the thought of climbing inside Ethan’s car to go on a private drive. “I like the walk - I wasn’t planning on going home quite yet.”

Ethan’s gaze flitted to the setting sun, the cold air setting the mood for a rapidly darkening sky. “It’s awfully late for a walk.” 

“On the contrary, it’s a perfect time for a walk. Would you care to join me?” Ezekiel paused, his eyes inquisitive and searching. “You look like you have something on your mind.” He was getting good at it - much too good.

Ethan pursed his lips in thought briefly before flicking his chin inwards. "Get in. We'll drop my car off at my place, first." 

Swinging open the door and hopping inside with a grin, Ezekiel buckled in and sat politely - legs pressed together, back straight, hands laid on the tops of his knees as if he was trying to stop them from wandering. There was always a note of a sort of pensive sadness behind his expression when they were together - when it came to love, Ezekiel tried his hardest but he just couldn't be subtle in the ways that a seriousness between them would require. Ethan thus distanced them not only out of a concern for their careers, but to protect them both from heartbreak. With Ezekiel's heart on his sleeve, having to try his damnedest to hide the love and affection would kill him inside. The fact that Ethan's romantic company was dearly missed was plainly telegraphed on his face and in his overly-polite mannerisms, which sadly suggested that he was no longer comfortable with what they had in the ways that he used to be - he was probably so afraid of implications of romance that gestures of a close friendship became one and the same. 

Ethan caught him in the corner of his eye and let out a puff of breath. Ezekiel's company was missed, too - possibly more than he would ever know. There was a time that when they were alone, such as on the road, when private romantic talks were to be expected. It would probably be wrong to say that Ezekiel  _ liked _ these talks - they were dour exchanges of words that laid out exactly what  _ couldn't _ be rather than what they could like a normal couple of a remarkably un-taboo stature - but he seemed to be all too eager to start them, to be willing to do whatever he could to make it work. 

After stopping at Ethan's apartment, the pair wandered in a straight line side-by-side, only turning when necessary. They went further, further, and even further, until they had long passed the busy Boston metro and stepped into a quiet residential neighborhood with the moon beating down on them. "Where are we going?" Ethan asked. It was strange that the thought hadn't occurred to him earlier, distracted by the amicable silence they had found themselves in. Quiet between them was rarely ever awkward - add that to the sight of inoffensive facades of two-story homes and pleasantly crisp night air and Ethan found himself more relaxed than he had counted on. 

Ezekiel shrugged with a grin, spotting something in the distance, suddenly turning right into the grass of a dog park. At the edge, tucked slightly behind a small copse of fledgeling pine trees and puffy hedges was an old swing set, hidden away from the prying eyes of the houses around them. He sat down on one of the hanging seats and kicked gently, sending him rocking back and forth. "You were thinking of something earlier," he noted, patting the seat next to him. "Is it about a case?" 

With a nod, Ethan sat and cringed as the ancient chain shed rust upon the slightest touch. He explained everything they knew. 

"My first instinct is to say 'brain tumor'," Ezekiel put forward, a hand on his chin in thought. Ethan shrugged, watching in amusement as Ezekiel pumped his legs to swing faster, the hem of his overcoat billowing behind him. "I think I read about a similar case in one of Grayson Yu's medical journals once, though… it was an ovarian tumor, actually."

"A teratoma?"

"Yeah - a malignant teratoma composed of brain and nerve tissues would cause the immune system to recognize the body's own brain cells as a foreign body and attack them - a case of severe encephalitis with negative test results for the usual suspects. If you do a spinal tap and find white blood cells, then you'll know I'm right," Ezekiel answered, shooting Ethan a cocky smile. “It could also be intracranial too, I suppose, but some of her behavioural symptoms indicate to me some kind of hormonal imbalance as well - which can be caused by an abnormality in the ovary.”

“It makes sense. We’ll find out when the tests come in.” 

Ezekiel shook his head in mock disappointment. “You already knew, didn’t you?” 

“Surprisingly, no,” Ethan replied with a chuckle, swinging gently by nudging the ground with his foot. “I would have figured it out myself eventually, but you may have managed to beat me to it this time,” Ezekiel let out a little cheer, raising his arms in the air as he swung upward. He laughed again, a whooping sound full of energy despite the late hour. As Ethan’s gaze followed Ezekiel’s face as he swung back and forth, a well of concern bubbled up to the surface. Outwardly, he seemed to juggle his increased workload - if not efficiently, then somewhat gracefully. More often than not, though, it came at the price of being alone. Though he and Ethan very often found themselves working in close proximity, there was little to no time left for his other companions - a curse of terrible loneliness for a social creature like him. On top of that, he was too damn stubborn to stop fighting enemies much larger than he was. Twitching eyes and the exhaustion that he hid behind his smile did not go unnoticed by his peers, yet ignored by his go-getter attitude primed to topple him one day. “How much sleep did you get last night, Ezekiel?" 

Confused, the man blinked once, twice, three times; immediately falling silent. The answer was clearly 'not enough'. "Why?" Ethan shook his head, the gesture of an exasperated lover. 

"...You're going to burn yourself out before you even hit thirty," Ethan said, shooting him a surprisingly tender look along with a soft sigh that sent an almost nostalgic flutter ripple through him. Distracted from his swinging, Ezekiel dug his heels into the ground and dragged himself to a stop with wide eyes that grew to the size of dinner plates as a hand was offered to him. He gingerly took it, almost afraid to intertwine their fingers until he felt Ethan's thumb rub gentle circles on the back of his hand. 

Ezekiel's eyes grew nearly overfull with affection, squeezing Ethan's hand as he spoke. "I won't," he said, cheeks dusted with a dainty pink as he managed a steady grin. His movements were shy and reluctant, filled with a pent-up hunger to touch and be touched. "I guess it is rather late… your apartment is much closer than mine?" The suggestion in his voice was obvious, and he let out a little chuckle as Ethan smiled and shook his head. 

"You'll be sleeping on the couch." 

Humorously, Ezekiel burst into laughter, smiling so wide that his eyes crinkled at the corners. Perhaps not because of the poor excuse of a joke - Ethan made him so damn happy… for reasons that he couldn’t ever fathom. At first, he thought it was simply respect that kept Ezekiel coming back; but no, in fact - he derived genuine enjoyment in the company. The feeling was mutual, at least. “Walk me home?” Ezekiel stood, with Ethan following shoulder-to-shoulder. He practically felt his protege melt into him, physically relaxing into the touch until they were flush side by side. They walked like that the whole, long way back to Ezekiel’s apartment complex under the cover of night, blanketed in that same comfortable silence they arrived at the park in. Finally, reluctantly, faced with the threshold of the old building, Ezekiel pulled away - but not before angling his chin upwards with lips pursed ever-so-slightly in a silent question as his gaze flicked across Ethan's face. His eyes widened slightly as he felt the warmth of Ethan's lips against his, the ticklish sensation of his beard against his chin. Ezekiel poured all of the passion that he possibly could into the kiss, as if to make up for lost time - and Ethan felt his heart skip more than a few beats. 

Catching his breath, Ethan pulled away and let out a long sigh as he toyed with the hair on the back of Ezekiel's neck, arms looped loosely around his body. The words ' _ Sorry. I shouldn't have, _ ' crossed his mind and hovered over his tongue briefly before he swallowed them down. He didn't lean in for another kiss - and neither did Ezekiel. "Tonight was… pleasant," Ethan mumbled, taking a small step away. 

"We should do it again sometime. I'll bring my books so we can study," Ezekiel shook his head, physically dismissing his desire to continue the embrace. Still, though, he threw a playful wink Ethan's way that made him chuckle. "Good night, Ethan."

"Good night, Ezekiel..." Ethan replied… taking his protege's hand one more time and squeezing tenderly.

**Author's Note:**

> I would die for Ethan Ramsey. Aside from being a Slow Burn(tm) LI he's also one where I get images of the two characters just having deep conversations about life and death out of the blue in an old library curled up in front of the fireplace, you know? I love Bryce and Rafael, too, but they're different vibes.


End file.
